I have never minded the rain.  However, as I have gotten older, on a vain note I have never cared for it either.  It gives me straight, frazzled out strands.  My little one, on the other hand, always has enviable, thick, perfectly spiraled tresses which cascade effortlessly down her back.  I cannot count how many times people have referred to her as having “princess hair.”  People often think she and I have the same curls; I like to quip mine is curtesy of a curling iron from Target.  The more humid it gets, the more magnificently her ringlets abound.  I believe her mane is curtesy of my husband’s maternal side.  Darker hair always seems to be thicker and my husband has the most glorious shock of locks I have ever seen.  I love his hair and have worked for over a decade to keep him from shearing it all off every chance he gets.  Almost every other man his age (in their forties) would KILL for his impossibly thick, dark waves.  Our little one has even remarked that most dads in her class are “either grey or bald.”  I have never said a word about it — the kid comes by that honestly.  My own daddy had beautiful jet black hair that never revealed his scalp.  I am not suggesting that balding men or men who have shaved their heads are unattractive.  I am just saying that for me, I prefer a clean-shaven face and a full head of hair.  The funny thing about my husband is, he’s like a fastidious cat who cannot STAND to get wet!  He does not want his hair wet, his clothes wet, or his shoes wet.  He hogs the umbrella and frankly is not very chivalrous on rainy days.  My child of the sea, on the other hand, adores the water; she embraces it.  More than once I have seen her gleefully turn her little face toward the heavens and relish the rivulets running down her body.  I have always made do without coats and umbrellas, but in Paris on our honeymoon I bought a chat noir (black cat) umbrella from one of the small magasins.  I love it so much I have refused to use it.  Meanwhile my husband loses umbrellas like socks that mysteriously disappear in the dryer; never to be seen again.  I was thumbing through catalogues when I happened upon this fun discovery pictured here.  Instantly falling in love with it, I called to order one.  Upon its recent debut, my umbrella has delightfully surprised people who assumed it was a bottle of wine, and it has already brought me an immense amount of pleasure.  The American poet Langston Hughes is quoted as having once said, “Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.”  My little one adores the fresh, cleansing smell of rain; just as I did as a child.  Now as an adult I have discovered a reason not to w(h)ine about a rainy day.